I was in the science museum gift shop. There were lots of toys and things that I couldn’t figure to how they were related to the museum, but it seemed like someone had said, “This is scientific!!” (yes, with all the exclamation points), so they put it on the shelf for $23.95. 

In the museum itself, there was a huge cross section of a tree. There were little markers, like flags planted by explorers, that showed all the human things that had happened during the tree’s lifetime, things that the tree had no knowledge of or interest in. The tree just grew, minding its own business, not concerned at all about the French, American, or Industrial revolutions.

In the gift shop, they had smaller replicas of the cross section. I think they cut slices from a discarded Christmas tree. Of course, there were not nearly so many rings – these trees had been babies, or at least, young teenagers when they had been cut. And they hadn’t really lived long enough to have ignored important moments in history like the old tree had. It was kind of an odd kit, though, because it had little flag markers that you could put on the cross section, but they were blank, and you once you brought it home, you could put your own milestones on it. 

I picked up one of the cross sections and let my gaze fall into its pattern. It told me that it had grown up on a tree farm, a reasonably happy life, surrounded by brothers and sisters. Once a hawk had tried to land on its branches, but the tree bent under its weight and the hawk flew away. There were sunsets and sunrises, and rain and snow, and no reason to expect anything different.